


AfterLife

by Kittenmommy



Series: Loki and Pepper Potts: Conversations, Drinks, and Other Really Bad Ideas [28]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avenger Loki, Established Relationship, F/M, Haunting, Hel feels, Jötunn Loki, Kleenex Warning, Loki Feels, Near Death Experience, Reincarnation, Supernatural Elements, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenmommy/pseuds/Kittenmommy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The paramedics don’t arrive; they just <i>appear</i> in the ER, along with their patient on a stretcher and Loki, in full golden armor and swirling emerald cape. </p><p>Phillips is momentarily so startled that he freezes.</p><p>Loki is <i>blue</i>, and he’s carrying a box under one arm, a box that is lit from within with icy blue fire.</p><p>“Do something!” he snaps at Phillips like the Prince that he is.  “The Golden Hour is upon us, is it not?  Or so Doctor Banner has informed me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	AfterLife

**Author's Note:**

> _The Avengers_ belongs to Marvel, and I'm not making any money from this.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Vocab:
> 
> The [Golden Hour](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_hour_\(medicine\)).
> 
> TBI = [Traumatic Brain Injury](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Traumatic_brain_injury).

Freddy Phillips goes into the ER lounge in search of a cup of coffee.

For some absurd reason, Neuro is out of coffee (and seriously, who let that happen?) and the vending machines aren’t working.

He knows he’s hit the jackpot when he enters the lounge; not only can he smell coffee brewing, but it’s the _good_ stuff.

“Amen and halleluiah,” he says as he fills his mug. 

“Right?” agrees the blonde woman in pink scrubs who’s holding her own mug of coffee and staring out the window at the falling snow. “Sometimes I think I only get through the day because of caffeine!”

“I know _that_ feeling,” Phillips agrees, going to stand with her. “Caffeine, adrenalin, and a sense of responsibility!”

She laughs at this.

“Doctor Phillips, right?”

He nods. “That’s me.”

“It’s funny… Iron Man was asking me about you a couple weeks ago.”

He turns, staring at her. “Iron Man?” he repeats, surprised.

She shrugs. “Yeah, my kid wrote him a fan letter… and he just showed up at our door!” 

Phillips blinks. 

“Wow. That’s… a real coincidence,” he says with a frown. “Because he just showed up at _my_ door too. A couple of weeks ago.”

“That’s… really weird.”

They stare at each other for a moment. Then she holds out her hand.

“Sylvia Jennings.”

“Freddy Philips,” he replies, shaking her hand.

She laughs. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh… right.” 

They laugh.

“So, what did he want?” she asks.

He thinks for a minute. “Honestly? I really have no idea. It’s like he… just showed up for no reason. I hadn’t even thought about it until now.”

“Hmm.”

They stare out the window in silence for a moment. 

“Is it my imagination, or is it snowing harder now?” he asks.

“No, I don’t think it is… it wasn’t like this when I came in here. It’s _really_ coming down now!” 

“Can’t even see the streetlights across the street!” he observes.

She sighs. “And I have to take three trains and two busses to get home.”

“Rough!” he commiserates.

They sip their coffee in silence.

“ _Doctor Freddy Phillips to ER stat,_ ” a female voice says over the loudspeaker. “ _Doctor Phillips to ER stat!_ ” and at the same moment, his pager goes off and his phone rings.

“Looks like it’s showtime,” he sighs, and puts his mug on the counter.

She puts her mug down next to his.

“Hey, at least you’re already down here, right?” she asks as she follows him out the door.

* * *

The paramedics don’t arrive; they just _appear_ in the ER, along with their patient on a stretcher and Loki, in full golden armor and swirling emerald cape. 

Phillips is momentarily so startled that he freezes.

Loki is _blue_ , and he’s carrying a box under one arm, a box that is lit from within with icy blue fire.

“Do something!” he snaps at Phillips like the Prince that he is. “The Golden Hour is upon us, is it not? Or so Doctor Banner has informed me.”

It takes Phillips a few seconds to realize what Loki means, that he’s not talking about some obscure Asgardian magic.

And now he’s unfrozen and moving, and the senior paramedic is talking:

“Forty-eight year old Caucasian male with an ax wound to the upper right side of the head. Pupils are unequal and responsive. Patient is awake and responsive, but is not correctly oriented to time or place.”

As the paramedic is spilling all this information, they’ve already moved their patient into one of the trauma bays and are preparing to transfer him to a treatment bed.

That’s when Phillips sees that his patient is Iron Man.

And he’s in full red and gold armor.

And there’s an ax partly buried in the top right side of his head.

“Oh my god,” Phillips whispers, and then flows into action.

“Let’s get this armor off him, stat!” he orders. “Careful not to disturb the ax!”

“We’ve only been able to get the faceplate off,” one of the paramedics says.

And suddenly Loki is there, no longer blue and now in street clothes. The glowing blue box is nowhere in evidence.

“Mmmm,” he says, and raises his hand. “Like so.”

And Iron Man’s armor just _vanishes_ in a flash of green magic, leaving behind the ax that’s still protruding from his skull.

“That’ll work!” Phillips says, and immediately bends over his patient. He’s got a penlight in his hand and is shining it into Tony’s eyes.

“Mister Stark,” he says. “I’m Doctor Phillips, and I’m – ”

Tony’s eyes open wide.

“You!” he yells. “You fucking bastard, _this is all your fault_!”

“Let’s get an IV started,” Phillips tells Sylvia. “And get some sedation into him.”

“Mom!” Tony yells at the retreating blonde nurse. “Mom! Come back! Mom!”

“Mister Stark, I really need you to calm down – ” Phillips tries.

“She was drunk, you asshole!” Tony yells. “Drunk as usual, and _as usual_ you didn’t _see_! You never saw either of us, did you? Not really. Not when it _mattered_!”

Sylvia is back with an IV kit.

“Mister Stark,” she says softly. “I’m Sylvia Jennings… Calvin’s mom. Do you remember me?”

He grins up at her. “Mom!” He eyes her suspiciously: “Are you drunk?”

She momentarily looks like he’d slapped her, but she manages to recover herself. 

“No, of course I’m not drunk. Now, I need you to stay still for me, all right?”

His brown eyes fill with tears. “It was all Dad’s fault!”

She decides that it's best not to agitate him more.

“Yes, I know,” she agrees. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

“I love you, Mom!”

Sylvia suddenly has an idea.

“Doctor Phillips,” she says quietly. “It might be better if you started the IV… I think I can keep him calm.”

Phillips looks from Sylvia to Tony and back again.

“Yeah, OK.” He pulls on a pair of gloves and takes the IV kit from her.

“It’s going to be all right, Mister Stark,” Sylvia tells him.

“Why are you calling me that?” he asks with a frown. “Stop it, Mom!”

“Ah… all right, Anthony. It’s all right.” She strokes his hair gently, as she had stroked Calvin’s hair many times before. Gradually, Tony is soothed.

“Thanks, Mom.”

And that’s when Phillips finds the vein in Tony’s arm with the IV needle.

“Fuck!” Tony screams, and now Phillips has Tony’s attention again. “You fucker! You miserable goddamn fucker! You could only see us when we annoyed you or interrupted you or got in your way! _Asshole! I hate you! _I fucking hate you _and I hope you___ – ”

The sedative flows through his veins, and his tirade abruptly stops.

“What was _that_?” Sylvia asks. She’s watching Phillips with huge, startled eyes.

He shrugs. “TBI. They say the craziest things sometimes.” 

He motions to someone. “Let’s get him down to x-ray, and then prepped for surgery.” The orderlies have transferred the patient’s IV bags to the the treatment bed. “Come on people, let’s move!”

Sylvia glances over at Loki.

“Ah, Mister…?”

“I am Loki.”

“All right, Loki,” Sylvia agrees. “I’ll take you somewhere private where you can wait… can you think of anyone we should contact?”

“The rest of the Avengers know… obviously, as this happened during a battle.”

“Any family?”

“He has no family,” he tells her as they walk. “His parents were killed in a car accident.”

“Oh… wow, that’s terrible.”

He nods. “Yes.”

She leads him into the lounge and indicates a sofa. “Have a seat there… would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you, no.” 

At that moment, the rest of the Avengers show up, along with Nick Fury in his long black leather coat.

Captain America is in uniform, clutching his shield. His mask is pushed back off his face and he looks worried.

The Black Widow is in her black catsuit, and Hawkeye is carrying his bow and arrows.

 _The Avengers!_ Sylvia thinks. _Calvin would be in Heaven right now!_

“What’s going on, Laufeyson?” Fury asks without preamble.

Loki sighs. “I am not sure.” 

“They’re taking him to x-ray now,” Sylvia tells them. “They can’t do an MRI – ”

“Because of the ax,” a shirtless, barefoot man finishes. “I’m a doctor… uh, Bruce Banner.”

“Right,” Sylvia agrees, nodding. “Sylvia Jennings.”

Two people suddenly just _appear_ in the small lounge.

“Father!” the taller woman exclaims, running toward Loki. He pulls her into his arms.

“I’m Pepper Potts,” the other woman says, extending her hand. “Doctor…?”

Sylvia shakes her head. “No, Doctor Philips is his doctor. I’m an ER nurse.”

“What can you tell us?” Pepper asks.

“Nothing yet… but I promise to keep you all informed.”

Pepper nods. “Thank you.”

It’s an obvious dismissal, and Sylvia takes the hint.

“Let me know if I can get you anything,” she says as she leaves.

“All right, thanks.” And with that, Pepper turns toward Fury and Banner.

With a sigh, Sylvia goes back to the ER.

* * *

Tony drifts.

He’s aware of voices and commotion, of moving swiftly while lying flat on his back.

There’s a machine and bright lights.

“Call the OR and tell them we’re on our way,” someone says and then he’s moving moving moving the ceiling lights blurring by…

Stopping.

And Pepper is standing by his bed, tears rolling down her face. She’s holding his hand… why can’t he feel it?

And Hel is on his other side, looking worried and even paler than usual and he wonders what he’s done _this time_ to make everyone so unhappy.

“I’m sorry, Pep,” he whispers, because he _knows_ it’s all his fault, it’s _always_ all his fault. “Sorry, Hel. Sorry.”

“Tony, I do not wish to see your shade,” Hel cries, and then something else that he can’t make out through her sobbing.

Now Loki is there – and for some reason, he’s in surgical scrubs, his long hair tucked up inside a blue scrub cap – and he’s putting an arm around Pepper’s shoulders.

“Do not fail to return to us, Man of Iron,” he says gravely. “Today is _not_ a good day to die.”

“Can’t kill _me_ , Loke,” Tony says. He’s trying for a jaunty tone, but his voice is still only a whisper. “I’m indestructible.”

“Come on, people,” a black man in surgical scrubs says. “The clock is ticking.”

He’s moving again and he hears a woman sobbing but the doors open and he’s moving and there are lights and an Asian woman in a surgical mask does something with his IV line and then everything is black.

* * *

“This is where the fun begins,” Phillips murmurs.

“You are ready for me?” Loki asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he agrees. “Is this going to take time, or will – ”

“It will be instant, so I suggest you be ready.”

Phillips nods.

Loki moves to the head of the operating table, where Tony’s now shaved head is the only exposed part of his body. He takes a breath, closes his eyes, and holds up his hand.

And the ax that’s buried in Tony’s head just _appears_ in Loki’s hand.

Blood and fluids gush from the wound in Tony’s skull.

The alarms on the monitors go crazy.

“Intracranial pressure rising,” Phillips announces. He pushes past Loki, shoving him out of the way without a word of apology.

“BP falling, ninety over sixty,” a nurse announces.

“Damn, he’s got a bleed,” Phillips says. “Let’s get in there before he strokes out!” He holds out his hand. “Scalpel.”

“What is happening?” Loki asks, still standing there holding the ax.

“You done with him?” a nurse asks, indicating Loki.

“Yeah, get him out of here!” Phillips replies. “Bone saw!” he demands, and Loki can hear a whirring sound begin as the nurse grasps his elbow and guides him out of the room.

“I can’t leave him like – ” Loki protests.

“Sir, you’ll only be in the way,” the nurse tells him firmly. She takes the ax from his unresisting grip. “Why don’t you go find your friends?”

“My daughter loves him.”

“This _whole city_ loves him.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You misunderstand.”

Her face softens. 

“Go find your friends,” she repeats quietly. “And your daughter. As soon as there’s _any_ news, we’ll let you know. But you can’t stay _here_.” She touches his arm gently. “I really _am_ sorry.”

He nods.

And then he’s just gone.

* * *

Tony drifts.

“V-fib!” a voice shouts. “Charge the paddles!”

“Is it safe? He’s got that _thing_ in his chest…”

There’s a reply, but Tony doesn’t hear it.

 _Where am I?_ he wonders. _And how did I_ get here _?_

It’s like a scene from a medical drama.

Masked and gowned people are working frantically on a body on the operating table. Orders are being shouted and drugs are being administered, but none of it has anything to do with Tony.

He walks around to the head of the operating table, where he can see that the patient’s skull is open and his brain is exposed.

 _Poor bastard. He’s having one hell of a shitty day!_ Tony thinks.

He watches the activity for a few more seconds.

 _This is boring,_ he finally decides. _I wonder what else is going on around here._

Tony drifts…

* * *

“I’m signing over, and then I’m out of here,” Sylvia tells Jackie, the nurse coming on duty. “It’s pretty quiet now.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“We can always hope,” Sylvia agrees. She picks up her purse and her coat.

On her way out, she passes the closed door of the lounge where the Avengers wait for news of Iron Man.

She hesitates a moment, and then opens the door and goes inside.

Every head looks up when she walks in.

“There’s nothing new,” she says before anyone can ask. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going off duty now, but someone will come by to inform you if there’s any news.”

“OK, thanks,” Fury says.

 _They all look so tired,_ she thinks.

Captain America is sprawled out on one sofa, his arm covering his face. His shield is leaning against the side of the sofa.

Hawkeye and the Black Widow are curled up together on another sofa. They both have Styrofoam cups of coffee in their hands. Bruce is at the other end of their sofa, and someone has given him a scrub shirt and a pair of hospital slippers.

Loki – now back in street clothes – sits on another sofa, Pepper on one side and the tall woman who looks so much like him on the other.

The tall woman looks up at her. 

“You are Sylvia Jennings.”

“Yes.”

She rises to her feet and walks over to Sylvia.

“I am Hel, daughter of Loki.”

“Oh… ah, it’s nice to meet you, Hel.”

“Come,” she says, motioning. “Come join us.”

“Hel – ” Loki begins.

She turns and speaks to him at length in another language. When she’s finished, he looks absolutely stunned.

“You are certain?” he finally asks.

She nods.

“All right,” Loki agrees, and now he’s giving Sylvia an appraising look.

“What?” Sylvia asks.

Hel shakes her head.

“It is nothing. But still, you should join us, for truly you belong here as much as any of us do.”

“Well… maybe until the snow lets up a little,” she agrees. She drapes her coat over the back of a chair and takes a seat. “It’s _really_ coming down out there!”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Fury agrees in a scathing tone, shooting a look at Loki.

Loki sighs. “I should not use the Casket when I am angry.”

This statement makes no sense to Sylvia, so she simply nods in agreement.

“Any idea when it’ll let up?” Fury asks.

Loki sighs again and shrugs. “Time will tell.”

“Can you make it stop?” the Black Widow asks.

“I am afraid not, Natasha. I would if I could.”

“My son’ll be happy,” Sylvia says, and everyone _looks_ at her as though just realizing she’s there. “He’ll probably have a snow day tomorrow.”

“This entire goddamn _city_ will have a snow day tomorrow,” Fury grumbles.

“I _have_ apologized,” Loki reminds him. “There is not much else I can do.”

Hel is looking at Sylvia. “I do not like hospitals,” she says quietly.

Sylvia smiles. “Not many people do.”

“Yes… I do not know how you can work here. I certainly could not.”

Suddenly, she looks up and what little color she has drains from her face.

“Tony?” she asks, sounding horrified. “Oh, no… _Tony_!”

* * *

Tony drifts…

He’s in the hallway outside the surgical suites, but no one seems to notice him. In fact, two orderlies pushing a gurney pass right through his body.

“Well, _that_ was weird,” he says.

A bottle blonde middle-aged woman in a hospital gown is lounging against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She shrugs at him. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t _want_ to get used to it!”

She shrugs again. “Not much choice. You’re dead, sweetie pie!”

“I _can’t_ be dead!”

She rolls her eyes and blows smoke in his direction. “Yeah, they _all_ say that! Hey, want to go up to the nursery and make the babies cry?”

“What?”

“They can _see_ us.” She gestures vaguely with her cigarette. “No one else in this dump can… well, _sometimes_ you’ll get one, but they never last long.” She nods in satisfaction. “Not _here_.”

“But… why would you want to make babies cry?”

“Eh… it passes the time.” And without another word, she turns and disappears through the wall.

“This is the craziest dream ever.”

He ambles along and spies a sign on a door that reads, “ _Women's Locker Room/Showers_ ”.

“Should I?” he wonders, grinning evilly.

And suddenly he feels _distress_ … but it isn’t his. He realizes he wants to follow it…

He allows himself to drift, down through floors and through walls and finally through a door, where all of his friends and Sylvia are waiting anxiously.

Hel is there, sitting close to Loki. Around her, Tony can see shadowy shapes standing around, sitting, hovering.

 _They’re dead,_ he suddenly realizes. _They’re hanging around her because she can_ see _them._

And she looks up and she _sees_ him.

“Tony?” she asks, sounding horrified. “Oh, no… _Tony_!”

* * *

“What is it?” Loki asks as Hel pulls herself to her feet and stumbles toward a point in the center of the room.

“Tony, no, no, please, no…”

The expression on Loki’s face changes from confusion to pure horror.

“What’s happening?” Fury demands.

“I believe,” Loki says slowly, “that Hel sees Stark.”

“Yes,” she agrees without turning around. “He is here,” and her words end on a sob.

“Will someone tell me what the _fuck_ is going on around – ”

“Hel sees the dead, Director Fury,” Loki says quietly, and Natasha curses softly in Russian. “Now, please be silent.”

“Tony, please, you must go back!” Hel is pleading. “How long have you been away?”

There is a pause as she listens.

“Yes, you experience time differently now. But it could not have been long. Please, you must return to your body before it is too late!”

She listens some more.

“Arc reactor?” she asks, frowning. “No, of course you don’t have it now. You are dead, and… no, I will _not_ say your goodbyes for you! You will return to your body _now_ , and one day you will be able to tell everyone what you want to say yourself!” 

Her eyes are huge, begging.

“ _Please_ , Tony. _Please_ try.”

* * *

Tony stands there watching Hel impassively.

“ _Please_ , Tony. _Please_ try.”

He feels no sense of urgency at her words; in this place, there is no time and there certainly are no worries.

“ _Clear!_ ” a disembodied male voice says, and Tony feels the world waver around him.

“Please, Tony, please go back!” Hel begs. The tears are streaming down her cheeks. “Please!”

“ _Try again! Clear!_ ”

And suddenly Tony is being _pulled_ , dragged through the hospital at impossible speed and back into the operating room and then he’s briefly hovering above the operating table, watching as a figure in surgical scrubs pulls the paddles off his bare chest where his arc reactor glows bright blue and then he’s being pushed _down down down down…_

Everything is blackness.

* * *

Everyone looks up when Phillips walks into the lounge where the Avengers wait.

He’s still in his scrubs, with his mask hanging loosely around his neck.

“He’s alive,” Phillips says without preamble. “They’re moving him to the ICU right now. It was rough… we lost him twice. At one point, he was clinically dead for close to five minutes. I’m hoping…” He sighs.

“When can we see him?” Pepper asks, already rising to her feet.

“He’s not conscious yet,” Phillips tells her. “We’re not sure when he’ll regain consciousness.” 

Pepper hears the unspoken “ _or if_ ” in there, and her eyes fill with tears.

“They’re still getting him settled… why don’t you go get some food, and then go upstairs and see where they are? You all look like you could use something to eat.”

“No,” Pepper says. “We’ll go up _now_.”

Phillips shrugs. “Fine. I’ll tell them you’re on your way.”

* * *

As they leave the lounge and head toward the elevators, Hel suddenly stops walking and pulls up her long skirts to crouch on the floor.

“What is it?” she asks softly.

Sylvia suddenly realizes why Hel’s posture looks so familiar: it’s exactly what one would do if one wanted to speak to a small child on his or her own level.

“All right,” Hel is saying. “Show me where he is.”

She rises. “I have something I must do,” she explains. “It will not take long. I will find you when I am finished.”

And without another word, she takes off down the hallway toward a completely different set of elevators.

* * *

“No, we’re just doing everything we can to keep her comfortable at this point,” the middle-aged man in the white coat is saying.

He and a group of much younger doctors have just exited a hospital room and are walking down the hall together. “Pain meds as needed, and – ”

“Excuse me,” a woman in a long black gown interrupts, suddenly just _there_ in his path. “Doctor Sussman?”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“I am Hel, and there is someone here who would speak with you.”

“You’ll have to come back later. We’re right in the middle of rounds.”

“This will take but a moment.” She gathers up her long skirts and kneels down.

“Look, I’m a very busy doctor – ” Sussman begins, and then just _stops_.

Hel has pursed her lips and is exhaling something that shimmers like stardust. 

It slowly coalesces into the shape of a very little black girl.

“Gwendolyn!” he exclaims, astounded.

The shimmering child looks up at him with huge, frightened eyes.

“No more needles, ‘kay?” she asks. Her voice trembles and her brown doe eyes are filled with tears. “No more!”

Sussman finally finds his voice.

“But she’s dead! She died…”

“Yes,” Hel agrees. “She is dead.”

“Please, no more needles!” the child pleads.

“No, no… Gwendolyn… that’s over now.”

“No more needles?” She’s so hopeful that Sussman feels like his heart is breaking.

“No,” he agrees, and his voice catches. “No more.”

“It is over now, child,” Hel tells her.

Gwendolyn’s brow furrows. “Over?”

“Yes, it is over. You have transformed, and now you are one of mine.”

“Yours?”

She smiles. “I am Hel, and I am Queen of the Dead.”

“I’m dead?”

“I’m afraid so, Gwendolyn,” Sussman says.

And now the child is angry: “ _Why didn’t anyone_ tell me _?_ ” she demands.

“My God, my God,” one of the young doctors behind Sussman is saying. Without another word, he walks away.

“You didn’t know?” Sussman asks.

The little girl shakes her head.

“All this time… and you didn’t know?”

“How long?” Gwendolyn asks.

Sussman sighs. “Over twenty years. I was an intern when you were my patient, and now I am Chief of Oncology.”

“What happens to me now?” the little girl asks.

Hel smiles. “That is up to you.” She reaches out with one hand. “Come. Come with me, little treasure.”

The ghost-child takes her hand, and they both vanish like they’d never even existed.

“My God,” Sussman says, and then nothing more.

FINIS.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this seems to have come to an abrupt end... don't worry.
> 
> Will we find out how Tony ended up with an ax buried in his skull? Yes!
> 
> Is there a reason that Hel took Gwendolyn to see Dr. Sussman? Yes!
> 
> Will Sylvia and Freddy ever get it together? _Maybe._
> 
> Tune in next time to find out! ;)


End file.
